


Solstice

by Tarlan



Series: Dark Gift [11]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV), Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Crossover, M/M, POV First Person, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-30
Updated: 2004-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 17:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the shortest night of the year... and Chris and Vin are on the hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solstice

I'm leaning back in my favorite seat at the saloon, enjoying the ebb and flow of the people around me, and the way most of the cowboys give me a wide berth. I enjoy my reputation; take pleasure in seeing the fear on their faces if they accidentally come too close. I have no companion at my table; I need none... and then I see them enter. Rarely have I seen one without the other these past few nights - and on that one occasion, the other had been by his companion's side in the blink of an eye, or so it seemed. They take the far corner table, sitting with their backs to the wall and their faces hidden in partial shadow, eyeing the saloon with a predator eye.

I don't know when I started watching them, or why, but something about them caught my eye from the very first moment I saw them. They're both handsome men; one golden, one brown-haired. One with eyes green like a forest compared to the other's azure blue of a summer sky. Both have the look of being wanderers, perhaps hiring themselves out as gunmen to those who needed their services. Some say they were once part of a Magnificent Seven from down New Mexico way, which had brought peace and justice to the southern edge of the territory. But that was maybe ten years ago, and these two seem too young to be those men.

There is something about them though, something that draws me to them, the way that they seem to compliment each other as if they are meant to be together. The golden-haired one is soft of voice, like water rippling over sand, while the other's is rough like sandpaper smoothing over wood.

A steely green gaze turns towards me, and I duck my head in unaccustomed discomfort, but I don't want a confrontation with this green-eyed angel even though neither has caused any trouble in the saloon as yet.

The barkeep sends a girl over with a beer, an opened bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. I can see the mark on the side that tells me it is the same bottle the golden one had last night, and the night before, which the barkeep holds for them. The girl doesn't linger there, as they have never shown the slightest interest in her charms. Nor have they shown interest in any other of the fine working girls who slip between the crowd of liquored-up cowboys as they look for a man willing to pay them a dollar for a few hours - or minutes, in some cases - of sweaty pleasure. My eye roves the saloon and I realize that Arabella is not working the crowd. I figure that maybe she's keeping low after the suspicious death of one of her so-called clients. His pockets had been filled with gold when he followed her to her room last night, but his body had been found stripped and lying in an ignominious heap out in the desert only a mile outside the town come morning. Not that I would care if she had killed the man, though none could prove it. It wouldn't be her first, and who was I to judge? I was not shy of making a kill for easy money either - or even for pleasure on occasion.

I center my thoughts back on these two beautiful men. Some of the girls had tried to attract their attention on that first night a week back, but they gave up pretty quickly, turning their charms on more easy prey. Rumor has it that these two don't need a woman, that they need only each other, though no one dare voice such a thing aloud in case of swift retribution.

There.

That's the look that first made me notice them. A small, almost secretive smile as their eyes meet, and that subtle movement of muscular thighs touching beneath the table. I reckon those rumors might have some substance and I feel a tingle of desire race through my blood as I imagine those two bodies sweating and heaving against each other with lips and fingers paying homage to perfect flesh.

They smile. They have beautiful smiles that illuminate the dark corner where they sit apart from the rest.

That's another thing I noticed about them. They rarely speak, even to each other, and yet they act as if much has passed between them. They make small gestures where the slightest flicker of an eye, lips, head or hand sends volumes, which the other acknowledges with the subtlest of gestures in response.

The darker-haired one turns to look at me. He gives me a gentle smile, his eyes sparkling with an inner light that is so alluring, and then, unusually, he leans over to whisper something to his companion. The green-eyed one looks across at me now, but the hard edge of his glare has gone. His eyes are large liquid pools of darkness surrounded by a halo of rich forest green; a smoky mirror to the crystal blue surrounding the other's desire-darkened eyes.

That thought stops me. How do I know all of this? And then I realize that I have left my seat and I am standing before them with only the width of the solid wood table separating us. The blue-eyed angel beckons me to sit, and I do, watching as the green-eyed tempter pours a measure of whiskey into the second glass... and then he slides it across the table to me in invitation. My hands are trembling as I take it, my fingers brushing against his cool ones, sending frisson of delicious sensation through me. I take up the glass and down the contents in one swallow, gasping as the fiery liquid burns all the way down to the soul that many don't believe I possess.

They stand, as one, and I stand too, following their lithe forms from the saloon. They move with catlike grace, their movements synchronized with a resonating harmony that sets my senses humming with eager anticipation. Our horses are tied up outside, and we ride out of the town, heading towards the oldest part of the cemetery to where many of the graves lay uncared for. I grin when I realize they have set up camp at the old Randalls crypt. The elaborate structure was built as a flamboyant gesture to the founding father of Randall's Point back thirty years or more ago. It was built to house Randall and all his kin. Unfortunately, his only son got himself killed before building a family of his own, leaving just the two generations to lie in the spacious crypt.

Inside it is dark and musty, the air heavy with decades of decay but I don't mind. I watch as they light several candles, the light slowly filling the area until the whole room is bathed in an amber glow. Shadows jump as if playing tag with the flickering candlelight, chasing each other around the stone-walled crypt until banished into the farthest corners.

My green-eyed angel sits on top of the central stone coffin and he lights a cheroot. The heady aroma of the tobacco quickly fills the air and I breathe it in deeply, filling my lungs with its pungency. He gives me that secret smile again, and I swallow hard as I read the hunger in his eyes. The other takes my attention, and I watch as a dusty hat sails to the ground, followed by the buckskin jacket. He shakes his hair and the candlelight picks out the red and gold in the soft sheen of the tresses, highlighting the swells of waves that cascade to his shoulders.

The crypt is warm now, and I lick my too-dry lips in anticipation as the green-eyed tempter takes off his hat and gun belt, dropping them to the dusty ground. He shrugs out of the black duster, leaving it draped across the tomb on which he still sits. Then he teases open the buttons to his dark shirt, revealing the whiteness of a muscular chest, letting the shirt drop back onto the tomb before he stands. His eyes lock onto mine, holding them for a moment before I draw away to gaze at his tantalizing mouth... and I'm mesmerized by the tip of a tongue tracing a path across his full lower lip, seeing the white hint of teeth beyond. He lowers his head, drawing my attention downward to where agile fingers slowly ease open his tight, dark pants to release his burgeoning erection. I gasp, tremulously in shock, as I realize he has nothing on beneath those pants and shirt, and sigh raggedly as the pants drift to his ankles, not recalling when he had kicked off his boots. He steps out of the pool of black cloth, standing tall and proud, as naked and beautiful as a statue of living marble. He stretches, languidly, his perfect flesh strangely unmarred by scars. The flickering candlelight bathes his translucent flesh in an amber glow while shadows play along rippling muscle. He glides, wraith-like, across the dusty floor... away from me towards...

Oh God, my blue-eyed tempter is naked too and they glide into each other's arms, mouths meeting in open kisses, hungrily devouring each other as strong fingers play over perfect ivory flesh.

The other's skin holds a pale golden hue, glowing beneath the candlelight. God, how I love the sight and feel of flesh. They groan in unison as hands eagerly caress, mouths sliding over close-shaved faces, palms smoothing down to cup firm ass cheeks. They rock gently together as strong fingers glide along the crevice between the smooth muscular cheeks and I hear my own groan of arousal as a finger slides deep inside my golden-haired angel, entranced as he writhes upon his impalement with moans of sated pleasure.

I can no longer hear their moans over the roaring of my own blood in my ears, my head spinning dizzily as the blood rushes down to engorge my aching shaft. They turn to me, as one, their lust-filled, hungry eyes beckoning to me. I strip quickly, uncaring of how ungainly I am compared to their grace and beauty, eager to shed my clothing and join with them.

I move behind the blond, pressing the full length of my body against his cool flesh, grinding my groin into his pale ass and forcing the invading finger of his companion to drive deeper into the beautiful body.

I know what I want.

I want to shove my thick cock between those firm ass cheeks, want to sink deep inside that prepared hole, want to see dark bruising form on the pearlescent flesh as my hands grip painfully around his lean hips. I want to drive myself hard and furious into his yielding body, and hear the slap of my flesh against his as I take him brutally.

The hand is gone and now there is nothing between that fine ass and me. My cock is slick with arousal, sliding almost frictionless along the crevice, poised on the brink of plunging into that tight entrance. I feel a coolness press against my back and realize the other is now behind me, his strong arms wrapping around me like bands of iron and I cry out in rage as he holds me tight to him while that tempting, beautiful ass pulls beyond my reach.

One hand holds me in an unnaturally strong grip and I feel his cold fingers slide into my virgin hole, pushing inside insistently, curling and stroking against some place deep inside that brings a wave of unrealized pleasure cascading over me. Sharp pain adds to the incredible sensation, holding me high upon a precipice as he sinks sharp teeth into my throat, sucking greedily on my flesh.

I look down to find my green-eyed angel kneeling like a supplicant at my feet, his golden head bowed as he nuzzles and licks at my inner thigh. I cry out in heightened pleasure as he bites me, carried onward by the strong fingers that are curled around my aching flesh, drawing me ever higher.

The sensations crest, washing over me as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure drowns me. My knees weaken, as if my life-blood is rushing from me along with my seed, and I am grateful for the strong arm that still holds me upright though my head has flopped back onto his lean yet powerful shoulder. Sparkles of light dance before my eyes and I use the last of my waning strength to tug at the blond strands of hair, drawing my green-eyed angel back so I can gaze upon his beautiful face. It is flushed with heightened colour, no longer pale, and so warm to the touch. I feel so weak, so cold within their warm embrace. He smiles, gracing me with that wondrous sunlight and I give a small choking gasp as I watch a trickle of blood escape from his kiss-swollen lips only to be lapped up by that pink tongue. He treats me to a wide smile, and I cannot comprehend the sharp white incisors.

For the first time I feel afraid. I try to pull away from the other, struggling weakly, but I am held in a strong embrace, feeling the heat of his warm flesh against me. His red and gold curls form a curtain over my shoulder, hiding his angelic face but he pulls away, meeting my eyes. His are dark pools surrounded by a blueness that glows like sapphires held to the light. And then I notice the blood running down his chin, pooling momentarily on my shoulder - and realize that it is *my* blood.

Realization sweeps through me, and I feel the echo of their thoughts as we are joined, inexplicably in their glorious feed. My last mortal sound is a whimpering cry as they savagely sink their razor sharp teeth back into my dying flesh....

****

Vin let go of the drained body, not caring as it crumpled to his feet in a pile. He smacked his lips in appreciation of the rich, red blood that now flowed through him, and he grinned at his eternal companion. Drawing Chris to his feet, he plundered the welcoming mouth, tongue sliding over ridge and palate before teasing over the sharp teeth and licking along the length of a sharp incisor. He moaned in pleasure as it nicked his tongue, tasting the iron of his latest meal as it filled his immortal lover's mouth. He was more than willing to share this hot blood with Chris.

His hands caressed the broad back, enjoying the warmth of the freshly fed body.

"Hmmm... now, where were we?" he said as he thought back to their arrival.

He spun Chris about and pressed up against the muscular back, grinding his hips and groin into the firm ass.

"Ah yes."

He drew out the last word in a long hiss of pleasure as the crown of his blood-filled shaft pushed against the loosened yet still tight opening. Chris wriggled back, enticing him onwards, and Vin pushed forward, sinking into the hot flesh.

"So much better when you're tight... and hot."

Shadows danced around them, caressing their blood-warmed skin but Vin could see far more with his preternatural gift of sight. The stone became a living entity, warm and welcoming, the scuttling bug became an exotic, jewel-cased creature while spider's webs shimmered as if made of silver filament. But no sight was more beautiful, or more perfect than the incredible creature he held in his arms.

Christopher. His Chris. Given to him by Lestat though he never considered them to be anything other than equals, neither owner nor owned. He considered, momentarily, where their sire might be these days, though he heard word that Lestat had gone back to his beloved New Orleans, and the Creole blood that pleasured him so. There was little doubt that the troubled Louis was with him, sharing their love-hate relationship. Vin could only be grateful that he had his own love beside him, wondering if he could have faced eternity without Chris, knowing that these past ten years, of feeding and loving together, had passed as if they were mere days.

My Chris.

One hand freed its tight grip on the strong body, the fingers toying with an erect nipple, rubbing the hardened nub between thumb and forefinger while his other hand splayed around the lean hipbone. He held Chris tightly as he plunged to the depths of the willing body, turning them both slightly, and gently pushing down until Chris was bent over the clothes-strewn coffin. He watched in delight as pale fingers splayed over the cold, stone surface for balance, accepting the power thrusts of Vin's possession. Vin continued to thrust into the tight channel, feeling the incredible sensations building. He threw back his head and howled as the dizzying climax overtook him, leaning back over to sink his sharp teeth into the vulnerable neck and savouring the thick, warm blood that coated the inside of his mouth before flowing down his throat.

As the last tremors of his climax passed away, he drew Chris back against him, puling him upright and wrapping both arms around the strong body. His fingers sought Chris's hardened flesh, stroking firmly as he brought his lover to the brink and then over the edge into a shattering climax. He held his lover tight as Chris rocked his head back, with his lips parted in a smile as he gasped out his pleasure.

They sank to the dusty ground with Chris still cradled in Vin's arms. Their mouths curved in complete satisfaction, eyes glowing in repletion as all their senses, along with their hunger, were temporarily appeased by this joyous act.

Vin sighed as Chris lifted his arm and nipped at the soft skin of inner wrist, feeling tremors of renewed pleasure crashing over him as Chris lapped at the fat droplets beading from the tiny nick. His mind was filled with the hazy pleasure echoing from his blood sibling, resonating through his immortal flesh.

He gazed, wondrously, upon the drained husk lying a few feet away, knowing that the murderous Skinner Jones had brought so much pleasure to both of them. He could feel the man's rich blood easing the hunger in their bodies, and the shared meal reaffirming this special mind link with his most precious companion.

Chris's thoughts flowed over him, sharing the wonders of his dark gifts even as Vin shared his own dark gift of sight. The candles flickered and died while they were lost in their shared world but there was no darkness here of sight or mind. Vin saw their flesh shining silver flushed with red, and he felt the incredible adoration bleeding across their link. He tightened his grip upon Chris as he reflected that love back tenfold, then groaned as he felt the first tug of sleep that heralded the anticipated early rise of the midsummer sun. Reluctantly, he released Chris from his embrace.

Together they rose and quickly disposed of the body, casually snapping bones so that it would fit inside the second, smaller stone coffin along with their previous kills and the remains of all of the Randalls.

****

Chris captured an errant thought and smiled as he recalled the pleasure they had taken from all three victims. The Randalls were long departed from his world and would not care that they shared their rest with these others. He offered his thoughts to Vin, recalling the lovely Arabella who had unwittingly told them where she had hidden the gold she'd murdered for only the day before. He thought of the snake-eyed drifter who'd come across them and slyly asked to share their camp while his thoughts gleamed like sharp silver knives as he figured on slitting their throats while they slept and then making off with their horses. But Skinner had been the most pleasurable meal of the three, little knowing that they were granting him a far kinder death than he had dealt out to his own victims. Only the slightest trace of fear had filled him at the end whereas he had spent, sometimes, days torturing his unfortunate prey as he earned his nickname by slowing skinning the flesh from their pain-wracked bodies.

A prickling sensation of unease tingled along his nerve endings as the sun began to rise on what would be the longest day of the year. The summer solstice was upon them but Chris smiled, knowing that the days would grow shorter from now on, and he eagerly anticipated the longer nights to come. The sky was lightening, and soon the deadly rays of the sun would chase away the shadows, forcing them into the darkest recesses of the crypt. His thoughts reached out to encompass the horses, silently ordering the beasts to find grazing and shelter, knowing that he and Vin would find them when night fell once more.

Sliding back the lid to the large stone coffin, Chris spread his duster at the base then quickly pulled on the remainder of his clothing before slipping on the boots that he had kicked off earlier. He climbed inside the spacious coffin where Randall and his wife had once lain side by side, pushing his hat and gun belt to the end where it was joined by Vin's hat and mare's leg. He held out his arms to receive his beautiful companion, grinning as Vin snuggled down beside him, the gold and brown tresses fanning out over his shoulder. Together they pulled across the heavy lid and sealed themselves inside the cold, dark tomb.

Neither felt its dampness nor noticed its cloying scent of decay, and neither feared its darkness as they closed their eyes. Silently, they fell into a deep slumber, sharing thoughts of moving on come nightfall, and sharing dreams of eternity held in each other's arms.

THE END


End file.
